


Anatomy of a Tease

by goblin



Category: SMAP
Genre: M/M, Power Play, Slash, Teasing, Topping from the Bottom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-03-04
Updated: 2011-03-04
Packaged: 2017-11-06 01:08:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/413033
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goblin/pseuds/goblin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kimura likes to tease.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Anatomy of a Tease

**Author's Note:**

> **Disclaimer:** This is entirely the product of my own fevered imagination and is in no way intended to represent, misrepresent or indeed say anything in particular about any real members of SMAP. May contain traces of nuts.

Shingo resists the game.  
He can stand barely thirty seconds of lying back and letting Kimura brush fingers teasingly over and around the front of his shorts, fingers never actually slipping beneath the waistband, before he surges forward to reverse their positions. Now it’s Shingo straddling Kimura’s thighs, crowding him on the cream leather couch, ignoring the martial arts movie still playing on the TV. When he yanks down Kimura’s underwear and grabs him it’s unceremonious but feels marvellous, and Kimura loves this too.  
“You take too long,” Shingo complains.  
He’s far too impatient for extended foreplay, and would rather do what he wants than beg Kimura for anything. Shingo never begs.

Tsuyoshi begs.  
He trembles as Kimura licks the crease where his thigh begins, slow, deliberate. His hands brace against the kitchen table. He can’t help being aware of how incongruous this is. His T-shirt is on but his trousers are around his ankles; when he looks down he sees Kimura’s hair, still messy from sleep; when he looks across the room he can see the microwave glowing and humming as it heats up last night’s leftovers.  
Kimura gently bites and is rewarded with an urgent moan – but instead of intensifying,he backs off, dragging his fingernails gently down Tsuyoshi’s thigh to the back of his raised knee.  
“Please,” says Tsuyoshi, almost without meaning to.  
Kimura kisses his belly and runs both hands up and down the back of Tsuyoshi’s legs. The microwave beeps to say it’s ready. Neither of them notice.  
“Please, Kimura-kun,” Tsuyoshi begs. “Oh, please – I want you to – oh...”  
Tsuyoshi’s pleading is halting and a little shy, and Kimura loves this too. Tsuyoshi would rather plead than demand. Tsuyoshi is never demanding.

Goro is demanding.  
At first he says nothing, breathing heavily as the side of his face presses into the empty white space of the hotel room pillow.  
They’re both completely naked.  
Kimura presses a lingering kiss to the base of his spine and Goro breathes in-out, quick, sharp, involuntary. Kimura grins devilishly and shifts himself up a bit so he can lay his hand, with the lightest of feather-light touches, onto Goro’s arse.  
Goro whimpers.  
He doesn’t try to hide how much he wants this, but neither does he say anything. And he endures minute upon agonising minute of this, shivering under Kimura’s suggestive but subtle attentions. Kimura wonders whether Goro is too proud to ask for what he wants, or too embarrassed, or whether he simply wants the experience to last longer.  
Or perhaps he wants to draw out the part where he’s not in control.  
Or perhaps he knows there needs to be a certain amount of tension for the switch to be satisfying.  
Because after an age of teasing so long that even Kimura is starting to feel a sense of urgency, Goro at last snaps and says, “Takuya – hurry up and fuck me.” And from then on it’s Goro who’s in control, issuing a steady stream of demands. “Wait, go slower – okay, now – oh _yeah_ , like _that_ – just, just a tiny bit more – uh huh – more – more, more more – do it harder – oh, faster, come on – oh fuck you’re good.”  
There’s nothing Goro loves more than giving orders, and when he’s got the confidence that it’s okay with the other person he does so with absolute blithe selfishness. And being the type who enjoys the effect he’s having on other people more than what’s actually happening to himself, it’s not surprising that Kimura loves this too.  
Goro would rather stretch the tension until it reaches a breaking point that feels natural than go beyond and make it unbearable. Goro never makes it unbearable.

Nakai makes it unbearable.  
He doesn’t say a word as Kimura slides into the water beside him, Nakai’s huge bath fitting them both with room to spare. Kimura reaches out to touch Nakai’s lower lip with the side of his thumb. Nakai’s eyes are unsettlingly cool as he opens his mouth and curls his tongue up to meet Kimura’s thumb.  
Kimura raises an eyebrow. He withdraws his thumb and slips two fingers into Nakai’s mouth. His gaze is provocative.  
Nakai sucks on Kimura’s fingers, his cheeks hollowing out, the sensation and the visual both intensely suggestive. Nakai looks straight into Kimura’s eyes as he does it.  
Kimura’s breathing grows deeper. He doesn’t hide his enjoyment; if anything, he plays it up, letting his eyes flutter closed and a slight moan escape his lips. He knows that Nakai – like himself – is a visual creature and can be highly affected by a good show.  
But Nakai’s breathing is even and slow, so Kimura knows he has step up the game.  
He drags his fingers slowly out of Nakai’s mouth, feeling the graze of teeth as he does so. Then he traces downwards, a wet line on wet skin, down Nakai’s throat, skimming over his collarbone and at last coming to rest just beside his nipple.  
Kimura can see Nakai’s jaw harden. He’s steeling himself. Concealing. But the open-mouthed expression he makes when Kimura flicks at his nipple with a fingernail is pure pornography.  
Kimura bites his own lip to keep himself together as he flicks again, back and forth across it, knowing that Nakai gets off on this like crazy but never wants to admit that he does. Kimura pinches and can feel the tremor run through Nakai’s whole body, and for a second he thinks that he’s winning. But then with a visible effort Nakai is controlling himself, and before Kimura knows it Nakai has closed in and is kissing the breath out of him.  
For a moment, Kimura is utterly disarmed. Nakai does not kiss often.  
Then he realises Nakai has used the element of surprise to his advantage; under the heat of the water, he can feel one of Nakai’s fingers lightly circling his arse.  
The circles are getting smaller and smaller.  
Not to be outdone, Kimura reaches down behind Nakai to reciprocate.  
“Shit. Fuck.” Kimura can’t help but swear as Nakai pushes the tip of his finger in. It’s tantalising. He is incredibly aroused and suddenly he wants to say the words, but no. He’s not ready to give in yet. With an enormous effort he gathers his concentration and stretches his arm down to do for Nakai what Nakai is doing for him.  
They’re not co-ordinated enough to keep kissing anymore. And, glorious as it is, they can’t keep this up for long; it’s too awkward a position and too much of a strain.  
Something has to give.  
“Say it,” demands Kimura, but his voice is shaking.  
And Nakai, even though he can barely speak for want, says, “No.”  
“Fucking say it!”  
“You say it.”  
Nakai cranes his head up and licks a hot, wet path up Kimura’s neck, and it’s so simple it really shouldn’t be this that makes Kimura lose it but somehow it is.  
“Okay, _fuck_ , Nakai. You win. You win.”  
Kimura can feel Nakai smiling against his neck and then, to his surprise, Nakai gently wriggles his finger out. Why should he – ?  
“Say it and you can fuck me.”  
Oh.  
 _Oh._  
Kimura withdraws his own finger shakily and a little too quick, making Nakai gasp. “Sorry,” Kimura mutters as he fumbles, box of condoms, wet fingers, damn wrapper, unrolling, lube, back in place above his amazing, frustrating, unbelievable bandmate who’s hauled himself dripping out of the bath to lie flat on his back on the bathroom floor.  
Their harsh breathing echoes off the blue-tiled walls.  
Kimura grits his teeth. “I... oh god... _I want this more than you do_.”  
Nakai looks right into his eyes, smiles, and says, “Go.”  
So he does.  
Nakai is the only one who really knows how to tease as good as he gets, and, god help him, Kimura loves this too.  
Nakai would rather run the risk of Kimura slapping him and walking out than resist this little game of seeing just which them is more desperate for the other. Nakai never resists the game.


End file.
